


Next Generation - A new era is dawning

by MsLoving



Series: Tales of The Dawn [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Next Generation, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:17:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2515559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLoving/pseuds/MsLoving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort is dead, the wizarding world can breathe easily again - or can it? <br/>A young girl is dragged into the changed world after the defeat of the great Dark Lord, but will it be as peaceful as people would like her to believe it is? Will the secrets in her past help or hinder her in the pursuit of her dreams?<br/>The wizarding world has changed, but for the better? Follow the heroine and uncover the well-kept secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, or at least the first one I've shared. It should be mostly Canon compliant (book canon, not movie canon) as stated in the tags, but I cannot guaranty that I might not slip up here and there since I can hardly be expected to remember everything from the books, even though I try ;)   
> I have however kept a few characters that have never been used in the books, but have appeared in the films, I won't say which, but you will find out in the future. They shouldn't interfere with book canon though. Dead characters stay dead and alive ones stay alive - for now ;)   
> This fic will be (probably) slow-building and my update-speed is horrible and varies. I apologise beforehand.  
> Also note that English isn't my mother tongue and I might mix up British and Amercian English though I usually try to write British English.
> 
> Now without further ado, let's continue with the prologue. It's short, but the chapters will get longer. Expect the next chapter today or tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He is the property of J.K.Rowling

 

 

The wizarding world was at peace at last. The Dark Lord had ceased his reign and people didn’t have to pass every day in fear for their lives. A time of peace and prosperity was dawning on the horizon. It was as if the world had been holding its breath and now finally it was left loose in a sigh of relief.

 

Though the Second Great Wizarding War was over, the world was far from perfect. On the surface people started to return to their homes to rebuild what had been lost, but in the depths of the wizarding ranks remained a tension. The name “Voldemort” - though no longer a cause for fear and terror - had become a taboo word, an ugly reminder and a word almost solely used by Dark supporters. Anyone who uttered it was immediately suspicious. Many of the Death Eaters had escaped the battle at Hogwarts, among others Fenrir Greyback, the Carrow twins and Rodolphus Lestrange, and were still considered a danger to everyone. No one dared speak of it, but everyone feared that one of them or someone entirely new might come and rally the criminals on the run formerly known as Death Eaters.

 

In that time of insecurity and distrust a girl – no older than 4 or 5 - was found wandering the streets in the early morning hours of the 5. February – a cold Saturday. She was a pale little thing with dirty, unkempt hair, green eyes with brown speckles and a slight button nose. Her clothes were in rags and she wore neither shoes nor socks. Her steps were small and slow and whenever she moved, she swayed. A few lost snowflakes floated through the streets, otherwise the little girl was on her own.

She had nearly made it down the road when a door opened and a middle-aged woman with silvery blond hair left a nearby house. She had been intending to go for a little walk, but the sight of the small girl stopped her in her movements. The girl showed no reaction to either the sound or the sight of the woman, she just kept on walking. The woman did however realize that she wasn’t alone.


	2. Chapter One I: The girl in the night - Growing up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is, chapter number 1, well part of it. Chapter one is rather long and I decided to split it into nice little pieces. I hope the length is okay.  
> It's introduction time. Meet the girl in the night.  
> I'm not going to update again very soon though. It will take me some time to finish the next bit, I had this one almost finished when I posted the prologue and I decided to upload this one so I can get first reviews and possibly alter my following chapters from there. I hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He is the property of J.K.Rowling.

 

 

The first thing they ask me about is my identity, my name.  
I whisper: “Leonora.”  
“Do you know you surname?”, they ask, but I only shake my head. I don’t remember much, well, I don’t really remember anything. I know my first name, but that’s pretty much it. When they ask for my address, my family, my age, I just shrug. I don’t know. Somehow I have a feeling that in fact I once knew all these things, but now I don’t anymore. There is however a tugging feeling in my chest. I feel like I should remember, need to remember. There is something important about remembering. I have to do something, but I just can’t recall what. It makes my chest constrict and my heart ache. There was something important, something… something… Tears start running down my cheeks and they speak to me in soothing tones.  
“We’ll find your family, don’t worry.”, one of them says. I look at him. I don’t see it in his eyes and I can’t hear it in his voice, but somehow I know that he’s lying.

  
I return to staring off into the distance.  
They ask more questions, questions I can’t answer, where I came from, who had been with me, what was the last thing I remembered, but there was nothing. All I knew was that I had stumbled through the streets on a cold night with barely any clothes on and someone had found me, nothing else. Only my name.

  
A kindly looking woman crouches down and looks me in the eyes. “Are you hurt somewhere?”, she asks. Her voice is soft and warm. I simply stare at her for a moment than I shake my head.

  
Truth be told that is a lie. I can feel the injuries on my chest and my back and even slightly beneath my bottom on my legs, but I don’t tell them. I don’t know why I don’t tell them, I just don’t. Something tells me not to, to lie and say everything is fine, to smile. I don’t talk and neither do I smile, but I still lie, lie by shaking my head.

  
“Are you sure?”, the woman presses. I nod. The woman sighs and turns to the other people in the room. “Well, that should be all. She doesn’t seem to remember anything. I’d advise you to visit a doctor, even if she says she’s fine, but the memory loss should most certainly be addressed. We’ll be leaving for now and if we find anything new, we’ll contact you. You have our names and numbers, don’t hesitate calling us. That is all. Anymore questions?”  
They talk some more, but I tune them out. After some time most of the people leave and only a woman remains. My eyes stray to her face. She has many wrinkles, but astonishingly enough she doesn’t seem overly old, maybe late 30s. Light brown hair frames her face and falls down to her shoulders. She has a wool cardigan thrown over her plump frame. Underneath I can see sleep clothes. Her feet are only covered by thin slippers and I get the strange idea that she must have been cold walking outside and I feel sorry that she had to feel cold, because of me wandering around the streets in the dead of night.

 

The woman lets out a sigh. “Well, that was that.”, she says quietly. Then she turns to me and a weight seems to lift from her shoulders and face, for she looks somehow younger, more like someone in their early 30s, despite the wrinkles. I feel slightly amazed by this, but I don’t have much time to ponder it, since a moment later she turns to me and asks kindly: “Are you tired? I sure am and it must have been a tiring day for you. Do you want to come with me and I try to find you a nice room with a warm bed?”  
I tilt my head. A warm bed? A room just for me? Somehow it sounds strange, as if I am not supposed to have my own room or was that just my imagination? What are these weird feelings that keep bubbling up under the surface? They feel like memories, but somehow they don’t. Almost… almost-memories. Feelings I can’t place, but they are there nonetheless, like before, when I lied about being hurt.

 

I am so lost in my own thoughts that I don’t realise the woman moving closer until she puts a hand on my shoulder. Immediately alarms ring in my head. I flinch and move back, away from the touch. At once the hand is gone again.  
“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to startle you. You seemed to be lost in your own little world there for a moment. How about that bed?”  
I nod mutely and stand up from the chair I had been sitting on the entire time. Carefully the woman stretches out a hand and I take it after some hesitation. She leads me up a flight of stairs. There are many doors and I can hear silent breathing or not so silent snoring behind most of them. At the end of a corridor we stop and the kind woman opens a door. There is a single bed in the room and a nondescript wardrobe stands on one side. Through a window I can see the night sky. I forego the exploration of this new room for the comfort of the bed. I am just about to climb in, when the woman hands me a bundle of clothes.  
“Yours aren’t really that clean, are they now. Just dress in those. The bathroom is opposite your room. If you need something, my room is downstairs just on the left side of the stairs.” She smiles at me and leaves. Quickly I discard my old clothes, which are admittedly tattered and dirty, and dress in the gray pyjama I have been given.

  
Sleep comes quickly that night, or what remains of it.

 

* * *

 

The doctor comes by two days later. She was supposed to come anyways on a regular check-up with the other children.  
I had realised on my first real day there that I am staying at an orphanage. There are many children there. We live in two blocks, divided by gender. There are many children my age, but I don’t talk much and they don’t appear to like me very much.

  
The doctor checks the other children first. I am the last to be called in. She is a young woman with sparkling eyes and short hair, I am not quite sure whether it is black or dark brown. She greets me and beckons me to sit. I look at her with apprehension. I don’t want her to see the scars, I don’t want her to know.  
The doctor examines me. She looks in my mouth and tests my reflexes. I flinch at every touch. When she is done with that she looks at me and smiles.

  
“Can you take off your top, please?”  
I shake my head vigorously and move back a bit. The doctor frowns and considers me.  
“I can’t continue with your check-up unless you take off your shirt, dear. Please, I promise you it won’t hurt and I’ll be very quick.”  
I shake my head again. Her frown deepens.  
“Dear, are you hurt? Is there something you don’t want me to see?”  
I think about telling her for a moment, but I’m not sure. What will she do if she knows? What will happen to me? I decide to give it a shot. Slowly I nod and then I shrug. Am I really hurt? I know that I have scars, I saw them when I changed, but there are no open wounds.  
“Can you show me? I have to make sure that the wounds aren’t festering or maybe even infected.”  
She leans forward and looks at me with a steady gaze that oddly enough makes me trust her. I nod again, hesitantly but visibly.

 

I reach down to the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. I look at her face for reactions. I’m surprised when she doesn’t gasp or cover her mouth with her hand. The only sign of her shock is in her eyes. I can see everything in them, shock, surprise, pity, sadness, worry. I hunch my shoulders and try to hide my upper body again. I don’t like the look in her eyes. Will she tell others? I don’t want the others in the orphanage to know. The doctor reaches forward and pushes my hand down. I shiver from the skin on skin contact.

  
“Is any of this recent?”, she asks and her voice sounds strange, tight and something else. Angry?  
I shrug. How would I know, when I got these wounds? There all scars so I guess there already older, but what do I know? I can’t remember anything before I came here.  
“Did you get any of these here?”, she presses and I shake my head. Finally a question I know the answer to. The doctor exhales audibly.  
“Please turn around.”, she says softly. It doesn’t sound like an order but I comply. Somehow I have a feeling that it is better to obey adults.  
When I face the other way I hear a soft gasp and look over my shoulder. This time she couldn’t hide the shock as well as before. Both of her hands cover her mouth and her eyes are wide.

 

I wonder what she sees that has shocked her so. I couldn’t see my back when I changed and don’t know if I have as many scars there. I could feel some of them, but from the way the doctor looks it is worse than the front.  
The woman moves forward slowly and reaches out for my back. I feel her hands on my skin and I shiver again, but I try not to move away from the touch. She is a doctor and needs to touch sometimes, I tell myself. It is hard not to run. I don’t know why I’m so jumpy, but my instincts tell me to be careful.

  
“Does this hurt?”, she asks after a while and presses softly against my back with her fingertips. I shake my head. It isn’t a lie, there is no pain, but I wonder, if I should tell her that there are places where I can’t feel her fingers. I ponder this and finally decide to open my mouth. Maybe it’s important.  
“I don’t feel everywhere.” My voice is croaky and quiet, but she seems to hear and my words seem to make her even more worried. I wonder how her frown can get even deeper, because somehow it does.  
“I’m not really surprised. Some of these scars look deep and badly healed. Do you know if you had any medical treatment back home where you came from?”  
Again I shrug. When will they understand that I don’t remember?

  
“Do you have more scars? Somewhere else maybe, on the arms or the legs?”  
I look down to my lap. Of course I have more, every place that is usually covered by clothes has scars, my upper legs, my torso, my shoulders. I don’t want to undress more though. I chew on my bottom lip.  
“Where are the scars?”, the doctor asks kindly putting her hands on mine. I jerk back. I don’t like her touching me and she’s getting too close. I stand up from my chair and move away from her.  
“My legs.”, I whisper.  
“Will you show me?”, she asks softly, but I shake my head. She has seen enough as far as I’m concerned. I don’t want her to see more.  
“Please, I need to see.” I shake my head more strongly.  
“Leonora, I really need to see them. It’s important that I know the extent…” She doesn’t get further. I shake my head wildly left and right and scream “No!” I press myself against the wall behind me and hug my bare chest. Tears run down my face. This situation scares me and I am already stretched thin. I don’t know why, but my nerves are raw.

  
She tries to soothe me, but I start to shiver violently. I don’t want her to see more and I don’t want her to touch me. She comes closer and tries to hug me, tries to hold me close, but I don’t want it. I move sideways, out of her reach. “No!”, I scream again. The doctor holds her hands up and backs away.  
“It’s fine, Leonora. I won’t touch you anymore, if you don’t want me to. Please calm down. It’s fine. You don’t need to undress if you don’t want to.”  
I try to get my body back under control, but the shivers won’t stop and the tears just continue flowing. I bite my bottom lip and dig my fingernails into my hands.

 

 

After a few minutes of soothing words from the doctor and my own attempts at regaining control I am finally able to calm down. The doctor looks me over.  
“Do you want to tell me about the scars? I really need to know about them, but if you don’t want to show me, maybe you can talk about them and I’ll take a look some other time?”, she suggests and I look at her. Telling her instead of showing sounds better, but I don’t really want to talk much. Again I chew on my bottom lip. I decide to offer a compromise.  
“Can you ask?”, I croak. The doctor considers me for a moment and then nods slowly.  
“Where exactly are the scars?”  
I point at my thighs, trace from my hips down and stop a good way off my knees.  
“How bad are they?”  
I think about it for a moment.  
“Like my chest.”, I finally say. The doctor nods with a serious expression.  
“How many are there and how do they look?”  
“They’re straight and crisscross. They’re about this long.” I show her the length with my fingers.  
“Are any of them swollen or have a strange colour? Do any of them itch or feel strangely warm?”  
I shake my head and the doctor sighs.  
“Okay, I’ll have to see them sometime soon, but maybe not today. For now it doesn’t sound like they are infected. If you realise something odd, something strange happening, like when they go numb or start to heat up or when they start oozing something you have to call me immediately. Just tell Mrs. Dawns and she will ring me, no matter whether it’s day or night. Do you understand?” She looks stern and I understand that this is very important. I nod and hold her gaze trying to convey that I understand how important this is.

 

She sits down behind a desk and writes something down. Suddenly I start to worry. Will she tell Mrs. Dawns? Will she tell any of the children. I don’t want her to tell. I don’t want anyone else to know. It is bad enough that she knows. I fidget until I decide to voice my concerns.  
“Please don’t tell anyone.”  
Surprised the doctor looks up at me and stops writing.  
“There are people I have to tell. They have to know that you are not to return into your parents care should they be found until we know where you got these scars. If they did this then they are not fit to care for you.”  
“They didn’t.” I interrupt her harshly. A second later I flinch. How do I know this and why do her accusations make me so angry? I start fidgeting again.  
“Do you remember something? Do you remember your parents?”, she asks urgently moving from behind the desk and approaching me.  
“Not really. It’s just a feeling. I know that it wasn’t them.” I don’t dare look at her. I fear her reaction. What if she thinks I’m lying?  
“Are you sure? If there is anything you remember you need to tell someone.” I nod  
“If I remember something I’ll tell.”, I assure her. She sighs again and moves back to her desk.  
“I need to tell the authorities regardless. I won’t tell others though. I’m not allowed to. I’ve made an oath… a promise to never tell anything about my patients. It’s a promise I won’t break.” I consider this for a moment and then nod. I somehow believe her. There is a strange conviction in her voice.  
“I’ll tell Mrs. Dawns that you don’t like to be touched though. Is that okay?” I nod again. It will be much easier if people don’t try to get uncomfortably close all the time. I’m finally relaxed enough to sit back down. My legs dangle back and forth and I fumble around with the hem of my shirt. After some time I am done and I’m allowed to leave.

 

* * *

 

 

The days become weeks and nobody comes for me. The orphanage’s matron Mrs. Dawns takes good care of me. She is the woman that gave me a room the first night I came here. She takes the advice from the doctor to heart and makes sure that the other children don’t get too close. Of course sometimes it still happens, she can’t possibly watch me around the clock, but after the first few times the other children seem to understand that I’m uncomfortable with closeness and they keep away from me. Some of them still talk to me, though from a distance. I’m quickly integrated into the orphanage’s routine. I help with the dishes and the laundry and when it gets warmer I join the other children in the garden. We plant some carrots and a few rows of cabbage. The older children plant strawberries and tomatoes. It is a nice diversion from the otherwise mostly boring days until I discover the library. There are many picture books in the shelves and I can’t get enough of them. I don’t need to be close to others to enjoy the books, not like with the games the others play.

  
For some time people come to see me or just talk to me about my life before the orphanage, but I don’t remember anything and after some time they decide that there is most likely no one coming for me. I’m declared a foundling and I’m supposed to stay at the orphanage until someone adopts me, not that I want anyone adopting me. I’m quite comfortable here and I like Mrs. Dawns very much. She and her husband lead the orphanage and I can’t imagine that any parents would take better care of me. Therefore I am thrilled when Mrs. Dawns tells me one morning that the authorities decided to give me her last name. She explains to me why, but I don’t care. All that counts for me is that I have a proper name now and it even connects me to the people I see as the closest thing to parents I could ever want.

  
I grow older and after one year, on the 5. February I celebrate my fifth birthday. It is not my actual birthday, but with me unable to remember anything authorities decided to make the day I was found my birthday and from my continued medical check-ups they estimated my age. I have grown slightly closer to the doctor, I even showed her the rest of my scars and she is the only person allowed to touch me besides Mrs. Dawns. Mr. Dawns is a nice enough man, but I have an even harder time letting men touch me than women. I love talking with him though. He is very patient and answers all the questions I have. The couple hasn’t ever seen my scars though and I intend to keep it that way. I don’t know why, but I worry about what they might think if they knew. It’s one of those almost-memories.

  
As the years pass I start helping more with the chores, especially with in the kitchen and the garden. I love cooking and tending the plants. There are strange things happening around me and I know that it’s me, but I never tell and nobody ever realises. I hide my strange abilities as good as I can. I know how to stop the things from happening. As long as I reign in my emotions I can stop them from happening and somehow I know that no one is supposed to know of them. Sometimes I use my weird abilities to help with the garden or in the kitchen, but very rarely. That’s another almost-memory. I somehow fear what will happen if someone ever sees what I can do. The older I get the more comfortable I get with my abilities though. When I’m 9 I use them to my advantage. Once I cut my finger preparing dinner and I secretly heal it. Another time I return an almost wilted plant to a healthier state, but I still try to use them as seldom as possible. I have a feeling that I use them far too often though, but they are so useful that I ignore the gnawing sensation in my stomach. I should have known that they would mean a lot of trouble though.

On my tenth birthday my happy little world starts to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It started out rather confusing, but I hope everyone gets the general idea of who she is. We will learn more about her past in the future, but it's still rather distant future.  
> I didn't bother with names for most of the characters even though I know them. Is it confusing with so little names or is it fine?  
> Also I'm worried about the structure of my text. Is it fine or should I add more breaks?  
> Reviews greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter One II: The girl in the night - First Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter done. I am proud of myself. I was having kind of a writers block half way through, but I think my muse has returned.  
> We come closer to the Hogwarts age but not yet. We learn more about our heroine and her 'mum'.  
> I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He belongs to J.K.Rowling.

 

 

 

The first time I realise that something is off about mum is on my supposed tenth birthday.

 

I wake up early as usual and pad to the bathroom. I wake myself up by splashing ice cold water in my face and make short work of my hair. I have never seen any sense in complex hairstyles, they’re only in the way and take time to finish. So I comb quickly through my black curls and use my fingers to shake them into place.

I dress myself in simple trousers and my favourite green jumper. Mom always says that it flatters my eyes since they have a similar colour. I take only a moment to look at the result in the mirror. I stick out my tongue at my reflection and then make my way to the kitchen. I usually make breakfast since I get up early anyway and I have become rather good at all kitchen related chores.

 

After about an hour, it is not yet 7, I have eaten a sandwich with my favourite marmalade and made a huge pile of pancakes, which I left in the warm oven, as well as a pot of steaming hot coffee. I go outside and get the newspaper that mum subscribed to. I sit myself on a chair at the small kitchen table and pour myself a glass of multivitamin juice. This is my morning ritual and next I wait for the other inhabitants of the orphanage to wake.

 

I have not yet finished the first page of the newspaper when I hear a fluttering sound outside the window. I look up, but there is nothing that I can see. I tell myself that I imagined it and return to my perusal of the morning news. Not five minutes later the fluttering sound returns, but once again I cannot see anything outside the window. I get up to get a better look when mum walks into the kitchen. She pushes the hair out of her eyes. I am surprised at how tired and weary she looks. She isn’t a morning person, but this is a new all-time low for her. I offer her a mug of coffee and a start making her breakfast, fried eggs with bacon and toast.

 

“Good morning, mum. You look a bit tired, didn’t you sleep well?”, I ask.

“Oh, don’t worry, I just got a few letters yesterday evening that I had to think about. It’s nothing to worry your pretty head over.”, she answers and ruffles my hair good-naturedly. “It’s your birthday and you should just concentrate on being the most important person for the day.” She envelops me in a warm hug. It’s short so I don’t get uncomfortable, but I can feel the love in it. I smile at her and continue frying her eggs and bacon.

 

The other children start to come down half 7. The older ones come first. Most of them are grouchy, but after a nice big plate of pancakes and a cup of hot tea or coffee they become more talkative and a quarter past 8, when most of the children are eating breakfast, the dining room is buzzing with loud chatter. I’m still in the kitchen frying eggs, bacon and sausages for the ones that don’t want pancakes or porridge. Whenever someone finishes they come into the kitchen to put their plate in the dishwasher, congratulate me and chat with me, but otherwise I’m alone reading. Mum left long ago to wake the younger children and get the day started.

 

After breakfast I go up to my room. The others have cleaning duty and take care of the dishes and the kitchen. I know that they made a cake yesterday and now they need time to decorate it. I don’t want to disturb them and spoil the ‘surprise’ so I take my watercolours and th easel I got from the other children two years ago. I rummage through a desk drawer until I find my brushes and make my way outside. It is a cold day and since it’s early it is practically freezing, but I wrap myself in a thick coat and cover my hands with full-fingered gloves. Icicles hang from the roof of the garden shed. It must have snowed during the night because there is a thin undisturbed layer of snow in the back garden. The fruit trees have a beautiful white hue over their bark. I concentrate on the bird house we put in the middle of the garden when the snow came. A few birds sit there and peck at the grains. A blackbird catches my eye and I start sketching a draft.

 

Half 11 Mary, a thirteen-year-old girl with long, blond hair that has stayed here for almost a year, comes outside looking for me. She has a mug with hot tea in her hands and offers it to me.

“We were looking everywhere for you.”, she informs me grinning. “I told them, you’d be here. I saw that your easel was missing. The others went to the library because they think it’s too cold outside. As id that has ever stopped you.” She laughs and I give her a small smile. Mary carefully hands me the mug. When her hands touch mine she gasps.

“Gosh, your hands are cold. How long have you been here?”

I sip my tea and nod to the easel. I have finished three pictures and am half-way through with a forth. Mary looks at them admiringly.

“You’ve gotten so good at this. I would never have the patience to do even half of this picture.” She points at my blackbird. “It’s so detailed.”

I drink some more of the hot beverage before I turn to Mary. “Why did you all look for me? Am I needed for something?” Mary jumps up and nearly drops my pictures.

“Oh, I nearly forgot. We want to make lunch, but you usually make the best food and since it’s your birthday we didn’t want some second rate food to spoil the day.”

I nod and store away my watercolours. I roll the pictures into one tight scroll and hand it to Mary.

“Can you bring my things into my room? I still need to clean myself up.” Mary nods and leaves with my easel under her arm and my painting tools in hand.

 

There are three of us in the kitchen and we make quick work of lunch. It’s nothing special since we will have cake for tea-time. It is extremely loud as always and I hurry to finish my plate.

After lunch I have a bit more than two hours time before we eat my birthday cake. I go to the library and take a book about famous painters along to the rec room. When the others slowly arrive, too, I decide to abandon my book and maybe listen to some music. I get up and walk through the corridor when I pass a door that is slightly ajar. I think nothing of it until I hear the fluttering sound again. I slowly approach.

“Not another one. That’s the second one today.” Mum is talking and she sounds highly annoyed. I quietly inch closer.

“Your owners are really annoying, you know?”, she says and I wonder who she is talking with. It’s definitely not a person. I peek inside and see an owl perching on the floor lamp next to mum’s desk. Mum is sitting at the desk an scribbling something on a piece of paper. She folds it and stuffs it into an envelope.

“Take that back to your lot and stop coming here. I don’t need owls flying around the house. Can’t they just write letters?” I am extremely surprised when she hands the letter to the owl and shoos it out of the window.

“Owls. Why does it have to be owls? Even carrier pigeons would be less suspicious.”, she grumbles and I knock on the door.

“Enter!”

“Was that an owl, mum?”, I ask stupidly. We both know it was. Mum looks at me and then sighs.

“Yes, that was an owl. I have an odd correspondent. He sends his letters by owl.” I don’t know what to think of it, but I leave it at that. If she wants to tell me, then she will.

“Is it already tea time?”, mum asks and I shake my head.

“I just heard this fluttering sound and went to investigate. I heard it this morning, too.”, I clarify and turn to leave.

 

Tea time comes faster than I would have expected. I am so completely lost in thought about mum’s weird correspondent that I am the last to show up to my own birthday tea. All the children plus mum and dad are already sitting at the table and waiting for me. They sing a birthday song and I blow out the candles. Then I cut the cake. After tea the youngest boy, Freddy, drags me to the birthday table. There is as usual one present from mum and then a few small presents from the children here. Mum’s present is a big book containing several different fantasy stories. The others bought me new watercolours, a book on different painting techniques, a music book with classical songs and a puzzle book. I am over the moon that everyone took part in this and I even shed a tear.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes some time until I remember the incident with the owl. It’s already march and I spend more time outside looking at and painting the flowers that start to bloom in the garden. Mum still behaves oddly though. It started slowly, but lately I realised that she keeps watching me when she thinks I’m not looking.

On a nice march day I sit on the terrace behind the house and enjoy a relatively warm day when an owl swoops down and heads for a window over my head. I identify it as the one that leads to mum’s study. I consider going up and asking her about it, but I decide to ignore it since she hasn’t told me more about the strange person behind the letters. Not ten minutes later the owl leaves again carrying a letter in her talons. I watch it fly off into the distance.

That day mum watches me even more closely than before. I have a hard time concentrating because I’m uncomfortable with her close scrutiny.

 

I continue to use my strange abilities though I have to hide them more and more and I use them less frequently again. After about a month I quit to use them overall because mum seems to pop up out of nowhere surprisingly often. It is the oddest behaviour yet and even dad comments on it.

“Did you do something?”, he asks one evening when we’re together in the kitchen. He is eating a sandwich while I prepare the soup for the next day’s lunch.

“What do you mean? If you want to know if I did something deserving of punishment then no.” I look at him over my shoulder not stopping to stir.

“Mina keeps eyeing you with that disapproving stare and she keeps appearing wherever you happen to be. It’s a bit disconcerting. I thought you had done something and she was watching you closely in case you did it again. I couldn’t imagine you doing anything like that though.” I turn to him and nod.

“I realised that too, but I don’t know why she does that. I was hoping that it was just my imagination, that I got paranoid or something, but if you noticed the same then it probably isn’t me. Have you asked her about it?” Dad looks thoughtful for a moment, then he stands up and smiles at me encouragingly.

“I’ll talk to Mina. Maybe it’s nothing, or she thinks you’re overworking yourself or something similar.” I’m not convinced, but I nod anyway and return to my cooking.

 

Several more days pass until the mystery gets finally solved. Dad is not home at the moment and the children are mostly outside playing with friends or working part-time. There are only very few who still stay inside, me being one of them. Mum is in her study while I cut fruit in the kitchen for a fruit salad. I’m just peeling oranges when the door-bell rings. I get up, wash my hands and go to the door. I hear mum coming down the stairs from her room, but I still open the door. There stands a man in a suit. He looks young, dark hair framing his face.

“Hello. I am Leonora Dawns. Mrs. Dawns will be here in a moment.”, I say and smile pleasantly. Mum is there just a heart beat later. Her eyes fall upon the stranger and her expression tightens. I don’t know the man and doubt that it will have anything to do with me so I stand aside.

“So, they finally sent someone over.” I am surprised by the harsh tone. I have never seen mum being so curt and downright rude.

“Hello, I’m Derrick Hudnall from Wizarding Family Service. Mrs. Wilhelmina Dawns, isn’t it? I’m here to talk about…” Mum interrupts him.

“Yes, yes. Come in, come in.” She turns to me and sends me back to the kitchen.

As I walk off I hear Mr. Hudnall say: “I would like to talk with her present please.” I don’t hear what mum answers though. I sit down at the kitchen table again and continue my work. I wonder about the department he claims to work for. ‘Wizarding Family Service’ sounds like some fantasy place. Maybe he is from a theatre group that mum has business with.

 

It doesn’t take long and mum walks into the kitchen with Mr. Hudnall in tow. I look up in surprise. I didn’t expect them to come to the kitchen. Quickly I get up and move the food from the table to the kitchen counter next to the fridge. I clean the table with a wet cloth.

“Should I make some tea?”, I ask trying to hide my fidgeting. The kitchen is my space and mum has never brought a stranger in here, she knows better, especially since this stranger is a man. Mum obviously notices my discomfort and gives me an apologetic smile.

“Thank you, darling. Mr. Hudnall would like to talk with you present. If you want to continue with the fruit salad we could stay in here, he said he doesn’t mind.” As if to confirm the statement Mr. Hudnall nods and smiles at me. I watch him warily, but I can hardly refuse. I prefer to work here and distract myself from his presence than sit down and fidget under his gaze. I fill the water kettle and put it on the stove.

“What kind of tea would you like? We have a large variety.”, I offer quietly opening one of the cupboards.

“If you have a Yin Zhen Silver Needle, I’d like that one.” I turn to mum.

“Your usual tea, mum?”

“Make me a nice fennel tea, okay?”, mum requests and I nod. I prepare the cups and make myself peach tea. I will my hands to stop shaking and bite my bottom lip. When the kettle whistles I brew the tea and set the cups on the kitchen table in front of their respective owner.

I return to my peeling. With my hands busy I calm down somewhat.

 

“So, my boss wrote to you. Have you told Leonora anything about it?”, Mr. Hudnall asks. I wonder once again what this is about. Is this maybe the weirdo who sends his mail by owl?

“I have told her nothing, but I’m still convinced that this is a lot of rubbish.” Mum is still very tense and she even crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“We are certain that it is in fact your daughter and no one else.” Mr. Hudnall sounds like he’s trying to pacify mum. I frown. Daughter? Who is he talking about.

“Leonora isn’t my daughter.” Mum’s voice is icy. Now it’s Mr. Hudnall’s time to frown.

“Isn’t it a bit harsh to say such a thing?”, he asks. Mum just shrugs.

“Why would it be? She isn’t my daughter and she will never be.” I can feel the man’s eyes on my back. If I wasn’t so uncomfortable with his gaze on me I would laugh.

“She has your name and she even calls you mother. I don’t want to interfere in your relationship, but that seems rather cruel to me.” Now I really have to giggle.

“I am not her daughter and I never will be.” My confirmation only confuses Mr. Hudnall more. I can hear the question forming in his mind and I sigh.

“All the children here are allowed to call Mrs. Dawns mum and Mr. Dawns dad. Of course not all do it, but I have lived here for more than five years and eventually I started calling her mum. My surname is only Dawns because I’m a foundling and they decided to give me her name. I don’t really mind. I like the connection to her because I like her, but I am perfectly aware that she’ll never adopt me. That would be unfair to the other children here. Either she adopts all of us or nobody, wouldn’t you agree?” I quickly glance his way, but I don’t stop cutting and peeling the fruit.

“That is very mature of you, Leonora. You are ten years old, are you not?” I shrug. “Probably.” That confuses him even more. “Probably?”

“Did you not listen to her? She said she is a foundling. How would she know how old she really is. We think that she is ten years old, but who could say if that is her true age.” Mum is still angry for some reason and I become antsy. Silence reigns for a few moments until mum asks Mr. Hudnall to get on with it.

 

“Well, Leonora is a special girl. You yourself are familiar with the circumstances if I was correctly informed.” Mum gives a curt nod.

“I still say that there is not an ounce of magic in the child. She is no witch.” Mum’s words spark something in my mind. One of those almost-memories jumps to the forefront of my mind and even though I can’t grasp it, I panic. My hand slips and I cut my finger. I work entirely on instinct and my instincts tell me to deny my shock and hide the evidence. My strange abilities heal my finger while I spin around a look at the two other people in the room. I’m scared out of my wits and I can’t keep it from my expression. I press myself against the kitchen counter, knife abandoned. Mr. Hudnall and mum look at me in surprise.

“Are you aware that you are a witch, Leonora?”, he asks nicely, but my panic only increases.

“I’m no witch. There is no such thing as magic. Witches and wizards don’t exist.”, I say without thinking. I need to get control of my body, but the adrenalin won’t release its hold on my systems. Mr. Hudnall points at my finger.

“You cut yourself. Where is the wound?” I don’t look at my finger.

“I didn’t cut myself.”, I say firmly. The smile on Mr. Hudnall’s face makes my blood freeze.

“Where does the blood on the blade come from?”, he asks and points at the knife I discarded. Slowly my eyes travel to the piece of evidence. I can see the blood and I know they can see it, too. I turn around and position myself in their line of sight. My strange powers - magic? - clean the blade and the chopping board that has been stained.

“You must have looked wrong, there is no blood.” My voice is shaky but there is a conviction behind it. They have to believe me, I don’t know why, I only know that they have to believe me.

Mr. Hudnall is confused and doesn’t know how to react, but mum has caught on. I can hear her moving backwards and dragging an only slightly resisting Mr. Hudnall along.

“Leonora darling, it’s fine. If you say there is no magic then there is no magic. We believe you.” Mr. Hudnall starts to protest, but mum shushes him.

“Leonora, we won’t hurt you or punish you and we aren’t angry with you. We just want you to calm down. Nothing is going to happen. Take your time.”, she assures me and slowly, oh so slowly, I relax. I finally regain control over my body and mind and I slide to the floor. I start shivering and tears run down my cheeks. I can hear them talking in the other room, but I don’t listen to what they say.

 

They give me some time to sort myself out and then return. Mum comes first.

“Are you okay, dear?”, she asks from the door and I nod. I don’t trust my voice yet, I bet it’s all high pitched and wobbly. Mr. Hudnall follows shortly after. He doesn’t speak, he just watches me sitting on the floor, curled into a ball. I exhale shakily and stretch my legs out. I don’t even try to stand up, I know it’s no use yet.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper “I don’t know what came over me. It was one of those almost-memories I told you about, mum.” Mum looks at me sympathetically and turns to Mr. Hudnall to explain.

“Leonora was found here in London when she was five. She was walking around outside and a neighbour saw her and brought her to me since I take care of children. Leonora couldn’t remember anything but her name, well, her first name. Of course I called the police, but they never found anything about her. She has these almost-memories though. She can’t remember anything solid, anything concrete, but there are emotions and reactions that we cannot explain. She told me for instance that she had the feeling that she should not talk back to adults, especially male adults. This seems to be one of them.” She turns back to me and eyes me worriedly.

“What was the trigger?” I think back to the conversation and I know it almost instantly.

“The word w-… witch.”, I mumble. “Nobody is supposed to know. They mustn’t find out. If they find out it’ll hurt, I’ll be in a lot of pain.” I shiver again.

“Look at me, Leonora. You’re safe here. Nobody’s going to hurt you. We already know. Only those who don’t know mustn’t find out. We know. You don’t need to worry.” Mum tries to reassure me and it works. I get up from the floor, pull out a chair and sit.

 

The two of them start to explain to me about magic and the wizarding world. After several minutes of confusion I find out that mum is a witch, too. She has distanced herself from the rest of the wizarding world since the end of the last Wizarding War. I don’t know anything about that, but it seems it ended in 1998. She was tired of the bias that both sides had shown and that had continued even after the end of the fighting. She had packed away her wand and stored her wizarding money in a small box that she kept hidden. Eventually she had fallen for and married the muggle Robert Dawns. She had decided not to have any children because she wanted to avoid any future connection to the world she had tried so hard to escape. Since she liked children she and her husband had decided to lead a group home for children in the foster care system.

I also learn that the owls were indeed sent by wizards. Mr. Hudnall’s boss had contacted mum to inform her of the use of magic in the group home. After some toing and froing it was finally established that only I could be the one to use magic. Mum had watched me like a hawk, but since I had been very careful with it she had never actually seen me doing any magic.

The biggest shock to me comes when they tell me that after the Second Wizarding War the Ministry of Magic founded several orphanages for magical orphans and abused magical children. Mr. Hudnall explains that any magical children not living with their family have to live in said orphanages. I will have to live in one of these orphanages. After the time it took me to finally get accustomed to the group home, now I will need to move. I am required to pack my things and leave within a week. A wizard from Wizarding Family Service will come by and pick me up. I burst into tears.

 

“I can’t leave here. They don’t know anything about me and I don’t know anything about them. What if they try to hug me or what if I have to live together with someone else in one room? What about a doctor? Can’t I at least keep my doctor?” I was panicking again. Mum put a hand on mine and shot me an understanding look.

“Leonora, this is unavoidable. There are rules and laws. The healers don’t even need you to undress, darling. Isn’t that better?” I know that she is trying to reassure me, but when I hear that I stiffen.

“No! They can’t do a check-up like that. I won’t let them. I don’t want them to do that. Please, can’t I keep my doctor? Please!” I know that I’m whining, but I couldn’t care less. Mum looks at me and sighs.

“Mr. Hudnall, there are a few things you need to know. Leonora does not like touching of any sort. She will let you know if she is comfortable with any kind of physical contact, but until she allows it she mustn’t be forced. She is afraid of strangers. Men are worse than women, but she needs time to get acquainted with both before she is comfortable. If she panics you mustn’t try to comfort her by hugging her or holding her close but by giving her space and reassuring her with a calm voice. Also, she needs a certain degree of control over what she reveals. That is especially important with healers. I know that they can do complete check-ups without the patient ever undressing, but Leonora has a past and she doesn’t like it revealed to just anybody. I want you to promise me that you will see to it that wherever she goes they will respect that. Promise me that the healer will do nothing that Leonora doesn’t approve off. It took us ages to get her out of her shell and if you manage to distress her and she withdraws again I will come after you and I will dig my wand up and you will wish that you listened the first time.” Mr. Hudnall looks slightly alarmed at the threat, but he promises anyway to do everything in his power to ensure that I am as comfortable as possible.

 

After Mr. Hudnall’s departure mum sits down with me and goes over it again. I’m still scared, but she explains that these laws are there to protect the wizarding world and the magical children and I have to give in.

It takes a few days until I come to terms with the new development. I pack my things and say good bye to all the children here. Dad needs more convincing and mum finally decides to tell him that I have been adopted. He is not happy with it, but he can obviously do nothing about it.

 

It is an otherwise beautiful day in early april when I look for a final time tearfully back at the only home I have had till now and leave for the wizarding world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual reviews are appreciated. 
> 
> The next chapter is the last pre-Hogwarts one. Then we go to school.


	4. Chapter One III: The girl in the night - At the Wizarding Orphanage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished this chapter. It got longer than I first expected and then I hurt my right wrist (don't ask me how, I have no clue). It's all better now though.
> 
> I made a small change in the last chapter. Instead of leaving in March Leonora leaves in early April, shortly before Easter.
> 
> I'm fairly satisfied with this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. He belongs to J.K.Rowling.

 

 

 

Mr. Hudnall waits for me. He seems to know that I need a moment to come to terms with the fact that I won’t be returning to the place I called home for five years. He just stands there. A lone tear escapes my eye when I turn away from the group home. He stretches his hand out and I take it. He pulls me slightly closer. When I shudder he smiles apologetically.

“It’s easier to do side-along apparition if you stand closer. I’ll release you the moment we’re there.”, he says by way of apology. I nod and try not to shiver at the proximity. It just feels wrong.

“Take a deep breath, the sensation may be rather uncomfortable.”, he warns me and I comply. I breathe in deeply and suddenly feel a tugging sensation. It feels like I’m being pulled through a straw. My body feels like it is being compressed, my eyes are being pushed further into my skull and my ears hurt from the pressure. I can’t breathe in and I’m glad that I took that deep breath. I can’t feel the ground beneath my feet and I have to hold onto Mr. Hudnall’s arm or I fear I will be torn away. Suddenly the weird feeling is gone and my feet meet solid ground rather forcefully. I hunch over slightly and inhale the fresh air. My stomach lurches and it takes all my self-control not to throw up here and now. I make a retching sound but thankfully my food stays where it is supposed to stay - in my stomach. When I’m finally able to breathe normally again I straighten up and look around. Mr. Hudnall is standing a few feet from me and eyes me with interest. We are standing on a meadow that is surrounded by trees. In the middle of the meadow is a huge house. There is a high wrought iron fence and a huge gate. Children are playing outside and some of them are looking our way. I try to school my features, but my surprise and amazement must show because Mr Hudnall chuckles.

“Where are we?”, I ask. What I really want to know is what just happened, but I decide to find out myself. 

“We’re in Scotland, east of Elgin. This…” He points at the house. “…is the Wizarding Orphanage you will be living in from now on.” I take a shuddering breath and nod. Mr. Hudnall pulls out a strange wooden stick and points it at my things. They start floating and I take a step back. There is a weird itch under my skin and I feel strangely resentful. I shake my head to get rid of these feelings and turn to move. We walk in silence towards my new home. Mr. Hudnall walks slightly in front of me to my left and I’m grateful for it. I couldn’t stand it if he were to walk behind me where I can’t see him. We reach the house and my companion holds his hand out to stop me. He waves his wooden stick around and I feel a strange tingling on my skin. He motions for me to pass through the gate. I stretch my hand out to push it open but before my hand touches the iron the gate opens of its own accord. Warily I pass through. Some of the children playing outside move closer. They watch us pass, some even greet us. I am unsure how I feel. It is nice that they seem to be so accepting of a newcomer, but I fear that they might expect me to be more open and less troublesome. 

 

In the house I follow Mr. Hudnall through hallways, up a few flights of stairs and to a door. He sets my things down next to it and knocks. 

“Enter!”, a warm female voice calls. I’m surprisingly glad when Mr. Hudnall accompanies me inside. A tall, thin woman is sitting behind a large, wooden desk. She looks up and smiles.

“You must be Leonora Dawns. I’m Hesper Gray, but you can call me Hesper. I have been looking forward to meeting you all week. Derrick here told me about your meeting. I was intrigued what you would be like.” She beams at me and I smile back shyly. 

“Can I leave you with Hesper, Leonora? She will show you to your room and explain the rules of this place to you.” Mr. Hudnall is already half-way turned towards the door and seems to want to leave. I look from Hesper to Mr. Hudnall and nod. This woman seems nice enough albeit a bit talkative.

“I left her stuff outside the door, Hesper.”, he says and leaves. Hesper turns to me and smiles again.

“Come along then, I’ll show you where you will be staying.”

 

We only walk down a flight of stairs before Hesper opens one of the doors. The room that lies behind it is about as big, maybe slightly bigger than the one I had back at the group home. There is a bed in one corner and a wardrobe on the opposite wall. In front of the window are a table and a chair. Looking out of the window I can see the children playing in front of the house and the gate. A white soft plush carpet is lying on the floor and the walls are covered in creme-coloured wallpaper. There are two pictures hanging on the wall. One shows a spring garden that is moving in a soft breeze and the other shows a sunny beach with waves rolling over the white sand.

“The pictures are moving.”, I say dumbly and Hesper smiles again.

“All pictures move in the wizarding world.”

Hesper levitates my stuff into my new room. I shove my trunk under my bed for now and store my easel behind the door. My painting material vanishes inside a desk drawer and the bag with my remaining knick-knacks goes to the bottom of my wardrobe. I look around the room again.

“I don’t have to share my room then?”, I ask quietly. Hesper chuckles and I turn to look at her.

“We got a fair few letters from Mrs. Dawns in which she almost threatened us to respect a few things when it comes to you. She really loves you.” Sadness flickers in her eyes, but she hides it quickly.

“Now, how about I show you around the orphanage and explain all the rules to you. Maybe we will even meet some nice people I can introduce you to.”, Hesper says cheerily and I nod. I’m not sure if I actually want to meet someone new, but I guess it has to happen sooner or later and I’d rather have someone with me when it happens.

 

The tour takes a while.  There are 4 floors above the ground and a cellar to visit.  First Hesper shows me the bathrooms. There are two on each floor, one for the boys and one for the girls. Basically we are allowed to use the bathrooms on all levels whenever we like, but we are supposed to agree on a schedule for mornings and evenings if it gets to cramped. Next is the dining hall. It is very similar to the one back in London. There is one long table where everyone can sit and eat  together. There are three set meals every day, breakfast, lunch and dinner, but we can get small snacks any time of the day. Our third stop is the common room. There are already several people in there and I don’t dare go far inside, but from what I can see this is rather different from the common room I’m used to. The only thing that my old common room had is the huge book shelve along the back of the room. In the middle of the room are several small tables. A pair of boys is sitting at one of them playing something that looks like chess with moving chess pieces. There is no pool table and no TV-set, the stereo equipment is also missing and computers, like the ones we had standing at one side, are nowhere to be seen. A group of five is assembled around another table and there are a lot of explosion sounds and laughter coming from the group. Hesper hesitates in the room and watches me.

“Don’t you want to come inside? They’re all nice people. Maybe I can introduce you to one or two.” I eye the children in the room and finally decide to be brave. With a deep breath I step into the room. My shoulders are stiff and I’m wary. Hesper motions me to join her at the table with the chess playing boys.

“These are Joshua and Alec. Alec is the oldest boy here and he can help you with pretty much anything. He is already of age and is allowed to do unsupervised magic outside school. Joshua is not yet of age, but he has been here the longest. He knows everyone and can help you with shortcuts and the like.”

 

Alec is a tall boy with overall average looks. He has dark hair and brown eyes. I’m a bit afraid of him though because his eyes look so cold and hard. I wonder what has made them like that. Has he had a bad past? Is he one of the abused children?

Joshua is smaller and a bit on the chubby side. He has shoulder length blond hair that he has tucked into a neat ponytail. His brown eyes twinkle mischievously. He smiles at me good-naturedly and I decide that I like him far better than Alec for the moment. He appears to be less threatening.

“So you are the new girl.”, Joshua says. His voice is high for a boy but I find it pleasant, it isn’t shrill or raspy. I nod shyly, my eyes on Alec trying to read the boy. Alec watches me as closely as I watch him and I get the feeling that he is sizing me up. A shiver runs down my spine and I have to avert my eyes at his close scrutiny.

“I’m Leonora.”, I say to Joshua and take a step back to show Hesper that I want to leave. Hesper looks from Alec to me and back, shrugs and ushers me out of the room.

 

Only when we reach a kind of class room on the first floor does Hesper speak.

“You don’t seem to like Alec. He is a really nice boy. He is a bit quiet, but I thought you might like that since Mrs. Dawns told us that you prefer the silent type to the chatty one. You really don’t need to be afraid of any of the children here, they are all very nice and if someone doesn’t behave you just need to tell me or someone else from the staff and we will deal with it. We want you to be as comfortable as possible here.” I have to agree with her there, I never liked overly talkative people, but Alec is a different kind of person altogether. I chew on my bottom lip wondering if I’m overreacting. I decide to give Alec a chance if it ever comes to it.

Hesper only waits a few moments before she apparently decides that I’m not going to answer her and she changes the subject.

“So this is the class room. In the holidays we tutor the children here if they need it and everyone usually does their holiday homework here since we store all the books concerning the topics on the school curriculum here. You don’t have a wand yet, but once you do you are allowed to use magic in here during the holidays, but only when there is an adult to supervise you. They made a change in the laws a few years ago. Before then underage wizards and witches weren’t allowed to use magic during the summer at all. If you cannot adhere to this rule we will punish you by taking your wand away for the rest of the holidays.”, she explains. I frown. I can do magic without a wand and I have never been supervised before when I used it. At first I don’t want to ask, but then I realise that I might get into trouble if I don’t know all the rules.

“What about wandless magic? I have made things happen before and I have never used a wand. What will happen if I use that kind of magic?”

Hesper smiles and nods in approval.

“It’s good that you ask. You don’t have control over your accidental magic. Usually it stops when you start your magical education, but sometimes it still happens later. That will of course go unpunished, since you can’t help it. You don’t have to worry about that.”

My frown deepens. I do have control over my wandless magic, at least some of it. I open my mouth to ask more but then I close it again and shake my head. I’ll have enough time to find out more on my own.

 

The tour of the house ends in the garden. Hesper shows me the flower garden behind the house and the small playground for the very young. We are about to return inside when a girl approaches us. She has short wavy reddish brown hair and a slender build. She looks almost fragile, like a porcelain doll. Her skin is so pale that I can clearly see a few blue veins shimmering through. She is small even for a girl, but her face and her female figure tell me that she is most likely already older.

“Hello there, Hesper. Who is this pretty, new addition to our small community?”, she asks with a wide grin. Hesper smiles back and introduces us.

“This is Leonora. Leonora this is Karen. She is one of the oldest girls here and probably your best bet if you need someone to talk to. She is a great listener and she can help you with almost anything. She, Alec and Joshua are the ones we usually recommend to newcomers.Many of the children here distrust adults and from what I read in the letters you are not so different.” She looks at her watch.

“Oh my, look at that. Can I leave you here with Karen? I really need to go. I will introduce you to the rest of the staff after dinner. Is that okay for you?” I can see that Hesper really needs to go, I sigh but nod. Hesper hurries of and I look at Karen.

“So you got the grand tour with Hesper, huh? I envy you. Hesper doesn’t usually do that.”, she says and I look up startled.

“She doesn’t?” Karen shakes her head.

“Usually you would get an introduction from either George or Claire, depending on whether you’re a girl or a boy. Hesper only ever fills in if one of them is ill. I saw George and Claire this morning though. Did she tell you why?”, Karen inquires intrigued. I shake my head and shrug. Karen nods with a thoughtful expression on her face. Her brow creases and she taps her chin with her index finger. After a silent moment she shrugs and grins.

“Who knows. Anyways, welcome to the Albus Dumbledore Wizarding Orphanage.” She throws her arms out as if to envelope the whole world. I raise my eyebrows.

“Albus Dumbledore? Who is that?” She looks surprised for a moment but then her smile returns and she chuckles softly.

“I completely forgot that you weren’t raised by wizards. He is a war hero from the two Wizarding Wars against Tom Riddle and also the conqueror of Grindelwald. He was one of the greatest wizards if not the greatest wizard of the last century. I can give you a book that will answer all the questions about his contribution to all the wars.” I shrug. I don’t know anything about him and I don’t know yet what I want to learn and what I don’t want to know at all. Karen watches me but I keep quiet.

“You are one of the quiet ones. We get those often here. If you need someone to talk to I am always here if you want.” When I don’t react she changes the subject again.

“So Hesper showed you around. Have you been to the owlery, too? It’s outside a bit further from here. It used to be closer to the house but the owls made a huge mess on the playground.” She grins obviously remembering said mess. I mutely shake my head and smile timidly. Karen practically beams at me and we’re off.

 

I spend the rest of the afternoon with Karen. She is very talkative but funnily enough I don’t mind. She doesn’t need anyone to tell her that I don’t like touching, somehow she knows. She even chases a few smaller children away when they come running to give me a welcoming hug. The more time elapses the more comfortable I get in my new home. After she has shown me the owlery and introduced me to her favourite owl we sit down in the flower garden and watch the younger children play. At first I stiffen every time they use accidental magic, but when nobody interferes or scolds them I get more and more confused. I have the feeling that showing magic to others is bad and will be punished severely. I even ask Karen about it and she reacts most surprised.

“How are you supposed to stop it from happening? As long as you haven’t started your formal education you can hardly help it, now can you? Punishing it would make the children afraid of their magic and that will be most unhelpful in the long run. There have been cases where the children in question have shut their magic up inside them, but it comes out in violent outbursts that are extremely dangerous for everyone caught in them.” I get more and more confused by the minute since I feel like I can actually control my magic. I start chewing on my bottom lip again and a frown creeps back on my face.

Karen tells me about the school she goes to. It’s called Hogwarts and it’s the only magical school in Great Britain. She explains all the subjects she has and even those she doesn’t have. It seems that in a years time I will be going there, too. She even shows me her wand and I start to really realise that I am going to stay in this world, a world with wizards and witches, magic, wands and magical schools.

 

Dinner is a tense affair for me. There are so many new people I have either never seen before or not been introduced to yet. I’m happy that Karen at least sits on one side of me. I’m so distracted by the number of people that I only see the adults there after I finish my share. I’m done pretty quickly, but since Hesper told me she would introduce me to the other staff members I push back my chair until it hits the wall and wait. I can feel many eyes on me, after all I’m the interesting new inhabitant. When the other children finally clear out, several having been deliberately slow to get another look at me, Hesper approaches me.

“Now, as promised I’ll introduce you to the staff.”, she says with her happy smile and she beckons the other adults closer. There are three men and two women aside from Hesper. The men are all rather tall. One of them looks tough and has strong arms. He seems to me like a professional sportsman or bodybuilder. Another one is very slim and looks slightly sickly. His skin has a yellowish colour and shaggy hair, but not the flattering kind. The third one is seems to be very young and he has a kind smile. From the first impression I like him best.

The women are as different from one another as possible. One is slim and small and looks stern even though her face and her hair would fit the picture of an angel perfectly, but her expression is tight and appraising. The other woman is tall and rather chubby. Her hair is pulled back in a bun, but her smile is as bright as the sun.

Hesper introduces the women first.

“This is Claire, she is usually in charge of showing new girls around. Don’t let yourself be fooled by her stern look, she may be strict, but as long as you follow the rules and don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous you’ll get along perfectly.” I am not entirely convinced that I’ll ever be able to look past her stern gaze, but I decide to try.

“This here is Alice, she is one of the teachers and she takes care of the books both in the class room and the common room. You can ask her pretty much anything, she usually knows all the answers.” I have a feeling that I will get along well with her. Hesper switches to the men.

“This guy over here may look a little scary with all the muscles, but he is a soft-hearted one. His name is Anton. He is actually our accountant, but he gladly helps with anything. He is good at repairing stuff that cannot be repaired with magic.” Anton winks at me and gives me an encouraging smile. I smile back shyly.

“Next is George. He is the one to show our new boys around and he helps with smaller injuries, anything that doesn’t need complex spells or a stay in St Mungo’s.” I eye the sickly looking man suspiciously. If he is the one in charge of healing then why does he look so sick himself? I file the question away and plan to ask Karen about it.

“Last but definitely not least is Kevin. He used to live here as a war orphan, but since he finished his education three years ago he has taken on the job as teacher. He is also the one you should go to if there is trouble from the outside. He has the best defense education among us.” All the stuff members turn expectant eyes on me as if waiting for a response to the introductions. I swallow and look down. My fingers are intertwined and I chew my bottom lip again.

“Nice to meet you.”, I mumble and I wince because my voice comes out croaky and hoarse. When I look back up some of the adults exchange looks but quickly return their gaze to me when they realise that I can see them.

“Take your time, dear. I have introduced you to Karen already and we are always available if you need someone to talk to.” I nod, but then I don’t know what to do. I have nothing more to say and the staff members don’t seem to have anything to say either. Awkwardly I leave the room and make my way to my room. After a quick shower I lie awake in my bed for some more time. 

 

 

 

I’m standing in a small garden. A light blue fence surrounds the premises. A nice little house stands in the middle of it. I have a feeling that I know this place. I know that the entrance door is so small that sometimes tall adults hit their heads on the door frame. Without entering the house I know that there is a narrow stair case leading to the second floor and down to the cellar. I don’t like the cellar. I’m afraid of the cellar and I never go there of my own free will. There is someone living in the cellar and I don’t like them. I can hear children laughing beyond the fence, but their laughter frightens me. I don’t want to meet them, I try to avoid them if at all possible. There is something important about the house. Even though I don’t like the person or persons living in the cellar I still feel drawn to this place. Someone or something is there that is invaluable to me. A strange feeling overcomes me and fear grips at my heart. I forgot something and it is so important. I need to do something here. The memory of what exactly that is eludes me. I can feel it slipping from my grasp time and time again as if it’s taunting me.

Suddenly the sky grows dark and the fear closes my throat. I can barely breathe and I start shivering. I want to move, but I can’t even turn around or turn my head. A large shadow falls over me from behind me and the floor seems to slip from under my feet. The fear is rising to my head and I start screaming.

I sit bolt upright in my bed clutching my chest and breathing heavily. I look around my room. The moon comes out from behind a cloud cover. Slowly and unsteadily I get up and walk over to my window. I forgot to close the curtains and the moonlight is streaming unhindered into my room.

It takes me some time to go back to sleep. My heart doesn’t calm for quite some time and I have to force my breathing to stay calm.

 

 

 

The first week is astonishingly nice. At first I am confused that there are no chores aside from keeping our rooms clean until Karen introduces me to a few house elves. I spend a lot of my time with Karen. She really seems to be the go-to person for most kinds of trouble. I get to know some of the other children through her and I realise that I’m not as alone with my fear of physical contact. On my third day here I even get out my easel and paint some pictures. Karen praises my drawing skills and I teach her some tricks. The adults leave me alone for the most part. They sometimes come by and ask me if I need anything and how I’m doing, but they don’t press on when I answer evasively. I’m still not comfortable with unfamiliar adults. I’m amazed by how little fear I actually feel in the presence of the other children though. I have never felt this comfortable back in the group home. I wonder why this is the case sometimes, but I can never seem to answer that question for myself.

On the weekend, it’s Easter, Karen comes to me with bad news. Since it’s April the school term is still in full swing and after Easter Sunday she and the other children currently on holidays have to return to school. At first I am depressed and slightly alarmed that my only real contact person is going to leave so soon, but when she explains to me how owl post works I feel slightly better.

Of course I also try to interact with other people and on Saturday I even have a short talk with Alec. Joshua shows me how wizard chess works and after I lose spectacularly to him twice he gets called away, but he drags Alec over and makes him play me. At first we are both tense but after a while we start talking about chess tactics and from there we get talking about our favourite games. The longer I talk to him the more I realise that his face is not as closed off as I first thought. I can see small changes in his facial expression and it makes me like him more. I start to understand why others would go to him for advice or help. He has an amazing take on things that is rarely considered and I appreciate every minute of his company. On Sunday the older children leave and I am one of the oldest children there.

 

The next week begins with a shock. Hesper has called a healer to check me over just in case I have any magic related illnesses or injuries that couldn’t be fixed the muggle way but have a good chance of being cured with magic. At first I refuse to even so much as meet her. It takes a lot of convincing and calming from Alice and Anton until I agree to at least talk with the healer. The healer doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by my attitude and gives me all the time I need. It is close to dinner when I finally agree to hear her out. After some toing and froing she agrees to restrict her scans to recent injuries and illnesses. As mum said I don’t have to undress and I’m really glad about that. When the healer is done she goes to talk to Hesper and I can hear them whispering, but I try not to suspicious. I can’t keep myself from listening in for a short time though. They don’t mention my scars once though so I feel a little reassured.

 

I can’t wait for Karen to return and I look for new ways to distract me, especially since the nightmare I had keeps returning every now and then. The first thing I do is read up about anything and everything I can think of. I even research Albus Dumbledore and I am amazed by all the things he has done. In connection to him I also read quite a lot about Harry Potter. I can’t believe that he is still alive and not even 30 years old. I also try to research why I’m able to control my wild magic, but I can’t find anything on that and I don’t dare ask anyone lest they think me strange or even dangerous. When my thirst for knowledge is mostly sated and I only read a book now and then to further the understanding I have gained of the magical world, I go to Alice and ask her to teach me wizard chess. I’m no challenge and since Alec is adept in it and plays often I want to get better to have a reason to talk with him. Alice laughs when I tell her the reason why I want to learn and tells me that I’m not the first to realise that Alec is most approachable while playing chess. I also use this chance to talk with her to ask about their strange behaviour. I tell her that I am used to people trying to get me to open up and talk, trying to hug me or similar things. I also ask why the healer seemed to know about my reluctance to be examined. She starts laughing even harder at that and explains that mum sent several letters with rules on how to treat me and how to best handle me. She says that mum even started to almost threaten them the closer it got to my departure. The final letter before my move contained a detailed list on everything I might have problems with. I grin stupidly at that and a warm feeling spreads through my chest. This also reminds me that I have yet to write to mum and tell her how I am. I feel a stab of guilt and rectify that at once. I am extremely happy when I get an owl back with a reply, I feared that mum’s aversion to anything might stop her from writing back.

At the end of May I get a few of the children to teach me exploding snap but I don’t really like it so I give up quickly and turn to painting. In June the students finally return from Hogwarts and I am happy to have Karen back. Alec is surprised by my improvement in chess and Joshua grins at me knowingly.

 

My first question to Karen about Hogwarts is what house she is in. I learn that she is a Hufflepuff, Joshua is a Gryffindor and Alec is a Ravenclaw. Over the summer holidays Karen teaches me about any subject I ask her to. Potions is the hardest since we don’t have a potions lab where I could try to actually use the theoretical knowledge Karen teaches me. I like potions best though. From the sounds of it it’s a mix between chemistry and cooking. Joshua and Kevin join us about half way through the holidays. They think my interest in school subjects is highly amusing. Even Alec takes part now and then. He leaves the orphanage for good though when he gets accepted as a Gringotts curse breaker. His departure makes me extremely sad and only Karen’s presence helps me over it. 

I dread September the first, but it comes nonetheless. I have to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. After a week of depression and near constant moping I pull myself together and decide to try some of the spells the others told me about without a wand. I hide away in my room. The first thing I try is the levitation charm. Using my hands to follow the wand movement I speak the words ‘Wingardium Leviosa’, but nothing happens. After a few more tries I am frustrated and want to give up when I think about the difference between my usual magic and what I am attempting. I make another attempt but this time without the movement and the words. I pour all my frustration into the spell, after all it always worked best when I was feeling a strong emotion. It is somewhat feeble but I manage it and the elation coursing through me makes it worth it. I continue my secret attempts at wandless magic and I get better the longer I try. I start to feel my magic too. It’s like an electric current running just beneath my skin tingling in my fingertips and waiting to be released.

 

One day I sit alone in the class room reading a book about potions. I frown because the potion I am currently immersed in contains ingredients that I would have thought to react badly when mixed. I remember a good reference book that I put away just the day before and since I’m alone I decide to train my wandless magic and levitate it from the shelf over to me. It’s almost in my reach when I hear the door open and Alice’s voice drifts inside. I can feel my magic seize up and the book falls to the floor with an audible thump. I calm myself and quickly cover my blunder by pretending that the book slipped over the edge of my table. My magic feels weird. It’s as if there is something covering it up. I can’t feel the tingling in my fingertips. At first I attribute it to the shock, but when Alice enters and shows no sign of having noticed anything off about me I calm and yet my magic feels weird and strangely disconnected from me. I frown since I never had problems with using magic back at the group home even with mum in the room. I wait some more time, but when I am perfectly calm and Alice isn’t even looking my way and I still can’t get my magic to return to normal I start scowling. Alice asks me if something is wrong when she sees my face, but I simply shake my head, take my books and leave for my room. The moment I close the door of my room behind me my magic starts to stretch and the tingling returns to my fingers. I’m even more confused.

Over the following weeks and month I watch my magic closely and realise that in the presence of adults it just retreats and I can’t seem to call it forth.

 

When Karen and the others come back for Christmas I shortly wonder if I should ask her, but I quickly abandon the thought. I don’t dare tell her about my wandless magic so I can’t exactly ask her why I can’t use it around adults.

 

In February, when my birthday arrives, I realise that for the first time will I not only celebrate my birthday without my mum, but also without my friends. I get along with most of the staff but I don’t really consider them friends and the children that don’t go to school yet are only good acquaintances but my real friends are Karen, Joshua and even Alec. It is a rather sad birthday overall even though I get a book on how to enchant paintings to make them move that I devour within a day. It gets a little better when a package from Alec arrives containing my own wizard chess set.

 

June once again brings back my friends Karen and Joshua. With desperation I realise that they finished their last school year and will be leaving soon too, just like Alec. I shut myself in my room for three days until Karen can coax me back out with the promise to make this the best summer I have ever had. Since I will finally visit Hogwarts she and Joshua take me along to Diagon Alley. I am amazed by the street. Joshua snickers at my astonishment since my chin hit the floor upon entering through the Leaky Cauldron. In the orphanage even the adults wear mostly muggle clothes and therefore it is extremely new to me to see so many people dressed in strange robes. 

We get all the things we can get without the Hogwarts letter which means no books. Since I am in the ministry’s care I get special funding. It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. 

Our first stop is the second hand robes shop where I get three sets of plain black robes, one black hat, one pair of gloves and a winter cloak. I am satisfied with the clothes I get. I feared they might be to old and tattered, but they look almost new. 

The next stop is Amanuensis Quills. It’s right next to Madam Malkin’s and for one moment I eye the robes in the shop window with envy but then I remind myself that mine aren’t bad. My mood lifts when I see all the pretty quills. I buy a few standard models, but I buy a very pretty light blue one as a treat.

Next is Scribbulus Writing Instruments. There  I get dark green ink as well as black ink. Karen and Joshua take care of the parchment since they have more experience with it.

We stop by the Leaky Cauldron for a quick lunch.

Slug & Jiggers Apothecary is the next stop on the list and we get a basic potions kit though I wrinkle my nose. I would prefer to choose the ingredients myself and make sure that they are of the best quality possible. I don’t know enough about potions ingredients though and Karen and Joshua have both quit potions after their fifth year and are therefore no great help.

In Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment I get a set of brass scales, a telescope, a set of crystal vials and just to be sure also a set of glass vials. 

The last stop for the day is Potage’s Cauldron Shop where I get a standard sized pewter cauldron. I’m relieved that I don’t need a brass or copper cauldron since they are more expensive. When I see a golden cauldron I nearly laugh. I wonder for a moment if I will ever need a gold cauldron while I’m in school but Karen and Joshua quickly assure me that gold cauldrons are not used at school.

Joshua wants to drag me to a joke shop by the name of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes but I refuse since I don’t really like practical jokes. I am satisfied with the day anyway.

 

The weeks pass and Joshua and Karen offer themselves to act as models for me. I even give them my two favourite pieces so they won’t forget me. Joshua leaves first. He gets an offer from a Magizoologist he just can’t refuse. In early July the Hogwarts Letters come flooding in. All of the eleven-year olds get one and I proudly present mine to Karen. She ruffles my hair and agrees to take me to Diagon Alley again. Before we go there though a letter arrives for me. Mum remembered that she had some wizarding money left and since she decided long ago never to return she can’t turn it into muggle money. She tells me to consider it a late birthday present and to treat myself to something nice, a pet or a nice book. I cry at the gesture. I believed that I would get no more presents from her since I am no longer her charge but this felt like the nicest parting gift I could have ever thought of.

 

On the last weekend in July we are off to get the rest of my things. Our first stop is Flourish and Blotts and I collect all the books on the list plus a few more on potions and herbology. 

Upon leaving the book store Karen turns to me.

“Next we should get you your wand. If you still have money left afterwards you can get a nice owl or a cat or something.” I agree and look at her expectantly.

“We have two options for wands. There is Ollivander’s, but he stopped making new wands in 1998. The war took its toll on him and he has been selling his remaining wands since. Then there is Margarete Fromm. She used to be one of Gregorovitch’s apprentices. You read about him, didn’t you?” I nod. Indeed I read about him. He was killed by Tom Riddle.

“I like her wands. I got one myself after my Ollivander wand broke. She and Ollivander don’t get along. She came here to finish her apprenticeship since Gregorovitch died before she finished. They butted heads nearly daily until Ollivander told her she wasn’t going to learn more from him. She experiments with wand cores and wand wood and Ollivander doesn’t agree in the least. Fromm told me that he might be too old for her ides.” Karen grins. “I really like her, she is a feisty one.” After a moment of silence Karen looks at me.

“So where would you prefer to go?” I don’t really know where the difference is between Ollivander and Fromm, but I decide to go with Karen’s assessment.

“If you like her than I would like to go to Mrs. Fromm.” Karen nods.

 

We move through the door into the shop. There are hundreds of boxes stacked along the walls in neat rows. I can hear sound from beyond a door at the very back of the shop. A moment later a young woman with short brown hair steps into the room. I notice her odd robes because they are shorter and cling to her form. Beneath them she wears a pair of brown trousers. She has a wiry build. Her face lights up when she sees us.

“Hello there. I assume you have come to buy a wand?” She looks from me to Karen and back.

“Which one is the costumer?” Karen points at me.

“She is getting her first wand today and since you did such a good job with me we decided to try our luck.”, Karen says with a smile and Margarete Fromm’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.

“You have one of my wands. It’s nice to see that my reputation finally starts to get around.” She pulls a tape measure from a pocket and directs it to measure me.

“So, which is your wand hand, dear?”, she asks and I reply that it’s my right hand. She stands akimbo with her back to me and looks for the first wand to hand me. With a snap of her fingers the tape measure stops measuring me and she moves towards the right and pulls out a box.

“Try this one.” She unpacks the wand and hands it over. It’s a reddish brown and slightly bent. I take it in my hand and swish it. Mrs. Fromm looks at the wand with a frown.

“Well that’s odd.”, she says and takes the wand from me. She scrutinizes it, gives it a flick and a light breeze flows through the shop.

“It’s not damaged, but it doesn’t react to you at all. Try again, please.” She hands the wand back and I wave it again, still nothing happens. Her frown deepens.

“Maybe we should try another one, we can always return to this one later if necessary.” She moves away to get a new wand but I can see she isn’t convinced of her own words. The next wand is dark brown and absolutely straight. I take it again and wave it about and again nothing happens. Fromm’s frown deepens. Karen chimes in.

“When I tried wands nothing happened either until I found the right one.” Fromm waves her off.

“This is different. I agree with Mr. Ollivander that the wand chooses the wizard and therefore I listen to the voice of the wans as I call it. If you’re adept in the art of wandmaking you learn to feel what a wand thinks of the wizard that’s holding it. Just because there is no visible reaction doesn’t mean that there is no reaction. These wands don’t react to her at all, neither negatively nor positively. I have never seen this before.” Karen frowns too. I just look at them and wait.

“Well, we can only continue trying.” The next wand is almost white with a dark handle. There is no difference. A very crooked one gets discarded next. Next follow a havy light one, a short red one, a thick and long one, a light one with a dark handle, a dark one with a slightly darker handle and an almost black one. Last is a gnarly one.

“Ich hab so etwas noch nie gesehen. Ich sollte Ollivander fragen. Vielleicht weiß er mehr. Es ist fast als wäre sie ein Muggle. Aber trotzdem…”*, mumbles Fromm.

I am confused because I don’t understand a word. I look at the discarded wands and run my hand over the light one with the dark handle. I like that one best. When I held it it felt pleasant, warm. My magic that is currently tucked away again since I’m with an adult seemed to reach out to the wand when I held it. I consider telling the wand maker and decide that it can’t hurt.

“Erm… I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but I like that one.” I point at the pretty wand. Both women look at me and then at the wand.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it? Sadly looks don’t matter much when it comes to the right wand.”, Fromm says and shakes her head.

“It’s not only the looks. It feels nice when I hold it.” I pick it up again and now the feeling is even stronger. It’s a warm and cosy feeling. Fromm eyes me.

“Tell me how it feels.”, she demands and I swallow. Did I do something wrong? Is she angry?

“Well, it’s this sort of tingly warm feeling. It’s almost like meeting someone new and liking them from the start. As if you just met them but you feel like you have known them for forever.” I say barely above a whisper. The woman looks at the wand. Her frown isso pronounced that I fear it will never go away again.

“Well, that certainly sounds like the right wand for you. I just wonder why it showed no reaction whatsoever when you swished it around.”

“It wanted to, but it didn’t reach my magic.”, I blurt out and slap my hand on my mouth. I didn’t mean to say that. She looks at me with surprise.

“That is rare. You can feel your magic? At this age, remarkable. I wonder…” Silence ensues for a moment then she straightens up and reaches for my new wand.

“This is a pine wand with an acacia handle. The core is Hippogriff feather and Unicorn hair. 9 3/2 inches, swishy. You should make sure to always handle this wand with respect. The Hippogriff feather core doesn’t like being taken for granted.”, she explains and I nod. I will have no trouble respecting this wand. It’s my ticket to an amazing future. If I’m lucky I might even find out who my parents are if they are wizards. Maybe they weren’t looking for me in the muggle world.

 

I pay for my new wand and we leave the shop to the mutters of Margarete Fromm. It is rather late already since it took me so long to find a wand. We stop by Eeylops Owl Emporium, but after looking at the owls on display I quickly come to decision that I don’t want an owl. We go over to the Magical Menagerie and I am amazed by all the different pets on display. Karen tells me to take my time and leaves. I look around. There are toads and rats and even some sort of snail or something. I move over to the cats since I definitely don’t want a toad. At first I think that I won’t find a pet even here but then my eyes fall on two cats at the very back of the shop. They seem to have a similar build though one is white with gray spots and startlingly blue eyes and the other one is dark grey with black spots and yellow eyes. They lie there looking straight at me and seem to be waiting for something. As if pulled by an invisible force I move towards them. When I get closer they move gracefully to their feet and purr. I stretch my hands out and pet them. I’m completely lost in my world so I jump when I hear a deep voice from behind me.

“You like these two? They’re a strange pair. The white one is an Egyptian Mau and the black one is an Arabian Mau. They’re inseparable. Believe me I have tried.” My heart is thumping but I swallow the panic rising in my throat and turn to the man that approached me.

“How much are they?” I really want to take them along.

“18 Galleons. They seem attached to you already.” Indeed the cats climbed on top of my shoulders and are currently trying to fit on me without falling off. I swallow. 18 Galleons is a lot of money and I almost won’t have any money left, about one Galleon maybe. I already want to refuse but then I hear the purrs of the cats and look at them. They watch me with their cat eyes and somehow I can’t say no. I sigh.

“Very well, I take them.” I pay for the two cats and the shop attendant is even so nice that he gives me a carrier for free. I walk outside to wait for Karen and nearly run into her in the entrance. She smiles brightly when she sees the cats. ´

“They are beautiful. Are you ready to leave?” I nod and we make our way back home.

 

A few days before I school starts Karen leaves the orphanage too. I try to smile because I know that she already worries enough about me.

On the first September Anton and Claire take all of the children older than eleven to London to Platform 9 3/4. I find it hilarious that my wand is 9 3/4 inches long and I go to school from Platform 9 3/4. We help each other to heave our trunks onto the train. I set of to find a compartment for the ride. I find an empty one and sit down. At eleven o’clock the train shudders and starts moving. With this my adventure begins.

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: *Ich hab so etwas noch nie gesehen. Ich sollte Ollivander fragen. Vielleicht weiß er mehr. Es ist fast als wäre sie ein Muggle. Aber trotzdem… - I have never seen anything like this before. I should ask Ollivander. Maybe he knows something. It’s almost as if she’s a muggle. But still…
> 
> Another chapter done. Again I would appreciate reviews or comments.
> 
> Next chapter we start with chapter two and finally go to Hogwarts.

**Author's Note:**

> That's that. Please leave a comment, I'd greatly appreciate any feedback. I hope it's not too confusing.


End file.
